The blood of the vampire
The blood of the vampireCHAPTER I.CHAPTER II.CHAPTER III.CHAPTER IV.CHAPTER V.CHAPTER VI.CHAPTER VII.CHAPTER VIII.CHAPTER IX.CHAPTER X.CHAPTER XI.CHAPTER XII.CHAPTER XIII.CHAPTER XIV.CHAPTER XV.CHAPTER XVI.CHAPTER XVII.CHAPTER XVIII.Copyright
The blood of the vampire
Florence Marryat
CHAPTER I.
It was the magic hour of dining. The long Digue of Heyst was
almost deserted; so was the strip of loose, yellow sand which
skirted its base, and all thetables
d’hôteswere filling fast. Henri, the youngest
waiter of the Hôtel Lion d’Or, was standing on the steps between
the two great gilded lions, which stood rampant on either side the
portals, vigorously ringing a loud and discordant bell to summons
the stragglers, whilst the ladies, who were waiting the
commencement of dinner in the little salon to the side, stopped
their ears to dull its clamour. Philippe and Jules were busy,
laying white cloths and glasses, etc., on the marble tables in the
open balcony, outside thesalle à
manger, where strangers to the Hotel might
dineà la carte, if they chose.
Inside, the long, narrow tables, were decorated with dusty
geraniums and fuchsias, whilst each cruet stand had a small bunch
of dirty artificial flowers tied to its handle. But the visitors to
the Lion d’Or, who were mostly English, were too eager for their
evening meal, to cavil at their surroundings. The Baroness Gobelli,
with her husband on oneside, and her son on the other, was the first to seat herself
at table. The Baroness always appeared with the soup, for she had
observed that the first comers received a more generous helping
than those who came in last. No such anxiety occupied the minds of
Mrs. Pullen and her friend Miss Leyton, who sat opposite to the
Baroness and her family. They did not care sufficiently for
thepotage aux croutons, which
usually formed the beginning of thetable
d’hôtedinner. The long tables were soon filled
with a motley crew of English, Germans, and Belgians, all
chattering, especially the foreigners, as fast as their tongues
could travel. Amongst them was a sprinkling of children, mostly
unruly and ill-behaved, who had to be called to order every now and
then, which made Miss Leyton’s lip curl with disgust. Just opposite
to her, and next to Mr. Bobby Bates, the Baroness’s son by her
first marriage, and whom she always treated as if he had been a boy
of ten years old, was an unoccupied chair, turned up against the
table to signify that it was engaged.
“ I wonder if that is for the German Princess of whom Madame
Lamont is so fond of talking,” whispered Elinor Leyton to Mrs.
Pullen, “she said this morning that she expected her this
afternoon.”
“ O! surely not!” replied her friend, “I do not know much
about royalties, but I should think a Princess would hardly dine at
a publictable d’hôte.”
“ O! a German Princess! what is that?” said Miss Leyton, with
a curled lip again, for she was a daughter of Lord Walthamstowe,
and thought very little of any aristocracy, except that of her own
country.As she spoke, however, the chair opposite wassharply pulled into place, and a young lady seated herself on
it, and looked boldly (though not brazenly) up and down the tables,
and at her neighbours on each side of her. She was a
remarkable-looking girl—more remarkable, perhaps, than beautiful,
for her beauty did not strike one at first sight. Her figure was
tall but slight and lissom. It looked almost boneless as she swayed
easily from side to side of her chair. Her skin was colourless but
clear. Her eyes were long-shaped, dark, and narrow, with heavy lids
and thick black lashes which lay upon her cheeks. Her brows were
arched and delicately pencilled, and her nose was straight and
small. Not so her mouth however, which was large, with lips of a
deep blood colour, displaying small white teeth. To crown all, her
head was covered with a mass of soft, dull, blue-black hair, which
was twisted in careless masses about the nape of her neck, and
looked as if it was unaccustomed to comb or hairpin. She was
dressed very simply in a white cambric frock, but there was not a
woman present, who had not discovered in five minutes, that the
lace with which it was profusely trimmed, was costly Valenciennes,
and that it was clasped at her throat with brilliants. The
new-comer did not seem in the least abashed by the numbers of eyes
which were turned upon her, but bore the scrutiny very calmly,
smiling in a sort of furtive way at everybody, until theentréeswere handed round, when she
rivetted all her attention upon the contents of her plate. Miss
Leyton thought she had never seen any young person devour her food
with so much avidity and enjoyment. She could not help watching
her. The Baroness Gobelli, who was a very coarse feeder, scattering
herfood over her plate and not infrequently over the table cloth
as well, was nothing compared to the young stranger. It was not so
much that she ate rapidly and with evident appetite, but that she
kept her eyes fixed upon her food, as if she feared someone might
deprive her of it. As soon as her plate was empty, she called
sharply to the waiter in French, and ordered him to get her some
more.
“ That’s right, my dear!” exclaimed the Baroness, nodding her
huge head, and smiling broadly at the new-comer; “make ’em bring
you more! It’s an excellent dish, that! I’ll ’ave some more
myself!”As Philippe deposited the last helping of theentréeon the young lady’s plate, the
Baroness thrust hers beneath his nose.
“’ Ere!” she said, “bring three more ’elpings for the Baron
and Bobby and me!”The man shook his head to intimate that the dish was
finished, but the Baroness was not to be put off with a flimsy
excuse. She commenced to make a row. Few meals passed without a
squabble of some sort, between the Hotel servants and this terrible
woman.
“ Now we are in for it again!” murmured Miss Leyton into Mrs.
Pullen’s ear. The waiter brought a differententrée, but the Baroness insisted upon
having a second helping oftête de veau aux
champignons.
“ Il n’y a plus, Madame!” asseverated
Philippe, with a gesture of deprecation.
“ What does ’e say?” demanded the Baroness, who was not good
at French.
“ There is no more, mein tear!” replied her husband, with a
strong German accent.
“ Confound their impudence!” exclaimed his wife with a heated
countenance, “’ere, send Monsieur ’ere at once! I’ll soon see if
we’re not to ’ave enough to eat in ’is beastly Hotel!”All the ladies who understood what she said, looked horrified
at such language, but that was of no consequence to Madame Gobelli,
who continued to call out at intervals for “Monsieur” until she
found the dinner was coming to an end without her, and thought it
would be more politic to attend to business and postpone her feud
till a more convenient occasion. The Baroness Gobelli was a mystery
to most people in the Hotel. She was an enormous woman of the
elephant build, with a large, flat face and clumsy hands and feet.
Her skin was coarse, so was her hair, so were her features. The
only things which redeemed an otherwise repulsive face, were a pair
of good-humoured, though cunning blue eyes and a set of firm, white
teeth. Who the Baroness had originally been, no one could quite
make out. It was evident that she must have sprung from some low
origin from her lack of education and breeding, yet she spoke
familiarly of aristocratic names, even of Royal ones, and appeared
to be acquainted with their families and homes. There was a
floating rumour that she had been old Mr. Bates’s cook before he
married her, and when he left her a widow with an only child and a
considerable fortune, the little German Baron had thought that her
money was a fair equivalent for her personality. She was
exceedingly vulgar, and when roused, exceedingly vituperative, but
she possessed a rough good humour when pleased, and a large amount
of natural shrewdness, which stood her instead of cleverness.
Butshe was an unscrupulous liar, and rather boasted of the fact
than otherwise. Having plenty of money at her command, she was used
to take violent fancies to people—taking them up suddenly, loading
them with presents and favours for as long as it pleased her, and
then dropping them as suddenly, without why or wherefore—even
insulting them if she could not shake them off without doing so.
The Baron was completely under her thumb; more than that, he was
servile in her presence, which astonished those people, who did not
know that amongst her other arrogant insistences, the Baroness laid
claim to holding intercourse with certain supernatural and
invisible beings, who had the power to wreak vengeance on all those
who offended her. This fear it was, combined with the fact that she
had all the money and kept the strings of the bag pretty close
where he was concerned, that made the Baron wait upon his wife’s
wishes as if he were her slave. Perhaps the softest spot in the
Baroness’s heart was kept for her sickly and uninteresting son,
Bobby Bates, whom she treated, nevertheless, with the roughness of
a tigress for her cub. She kept him still more under her
surveillance than she did her husband, and Bobby, though he had
attained his nineteenth year, dared not say Boo! to a goose, in
presence of his Mamma. As the cheese was handed round, Elinor
Leyton rose from her seat with an impatient gesture.
“ Do let us get out of this atmosphere, Margaret!” she said
in a low tone. “I really cannot stand it any longer!”The two ladies left the table, and went out beyond the
balcony, to where a number of painted iron chairs and tables were
placed on the Digue, for the accommodationof passing wayfarers, who might wish to rest awhile and
quench their thirst withlimonadeor lager beer.
“ I wonder who that girl is!” remarked Mrs. Pullen as soon as
they were out of hearing. “I don’t know whether I like her or not,
but there is something rather distinguished-looking about
her!”
“ Do you think so?” said Miss Leyton, “I thought she only
distinguished herself by eating like a cormorant! I never saw
anyone in society gobble her food in such a manner! She made me
positively sick!”
“ Was it as bad as that?” replied the more quiet Mrs. Pullen,
in an indifferent manner. Her eyes were attracted just then by the
perambulator which contained her baby, and she rose to meet
it.
“ How is she, Nurse?” she asked as anxiously as if she had
not parted from the infant an hour before. “Has she been awake all
the time?”
“ Yes, Ma’am, and looking about her like anything! But she
seems inclined to sleep now! I thought it was about time to take
her in!”
“ O! no! not on such a warm, lovely evening! If she does go
to sleep in the open air, it will do her no harm. Leave her with
me! I want you to go indoors, and find out the name of the young
lady who sat opposite to me at dinner to-day, Philippe understands
English. He will tell you!”
“ Why on earth do you want to know?” demanded Miss Leyton, as
the servant disappeared.
“ O! I don’t know! I feel a little curious, that is all! She
seems so young to be by herself!”Elinor Leyton answered nothing, but walked across the Digue
and stood, looking out over the sea. She wasanticipating the arrival of herfiancé, Captain Ralph Pullen of the
Limerick Rangers, but he had delayed his coming to join them, and
she began to find Heyst rather dull.The visitors of the Lion d’Or had finished their meal by this
time, and were beginning to reassemble on the Digue, preparatory to
taking a stroll before they turned into one of the manycafés-chantants, which were situated
at stated intervals in front of the sea. Amongst them came the
Baroness Gobelli, leaning heavily on a thick stick with one hand,
and her husband’s shoulder with the other. The couple presented an
extraordinary appearance, as they perambulated slowly up and down
the Digue.She—with her great height and bulk, towering a head above her
companion, whilst he—with a full-sized torso, and short legs—a
large hat crammed down upon his forehead, and no neck to speak of,
so that the brim appeared to rest upon his shoulders—was a
ludicrous figure, as he walked beside his wife, bending under the
weight of her support. But yet, she was actually proud of him.
Notwithstanding his ill-shaped figure, the Baron possessed one of
those mild German faces, with pale watery blue eyes, a long nose,
and hair and beard of a reddish-golden colour, which entitled him,
in the estimation of some people, to be called a handsome man, and
the Baroness was never tired of informing the public that his head
and face had once been drawn for that of some celebrated
saint.Her own appearance was really comical, for though she had
plenty of means, her want of taste, or indifference to dress, made
everyone stare at her as she passed.On the present occasion, she wore a silk gown which had cost
seventeen shillings a yard, with a costly velvet cloak, a bonnet
which might have been rescued from the dustbin, and cotton gloves
with all her fingers out. She shook her thick walking-stick in Miss
Leyton’s face as she passed by her, and called out loud enough for
everyone to hear: “And when is the handsome Captain coming to join
you, Miss Leyton, eh? Take care he ain’t running after some other
gal! ‘When pensive I thought on my L.O.V.E.’ Ha! ha!
ha!”Elinor flushed a delicate pink but did not turn her head, nor
take any notice of her tormentor. She detested the Baroness with a
perfectly bitter hatred, and her proud cold nature revolted from
her coarseness and familiarity.
“ Tied to your brat again!” cried the Baroness, as she passed
Margaret Pullen who was moving the perambulator gently to and fro
by the handle, so as to keep her infant asleep; “why didn’t you put
it in the tub as soon as it was born? It would ’ave saved you a
heap of trouble! I often wish I had done so by that devil Bobby!
’Ere, where are you, Bobby?”
“ I’m close behind you, Mamma!” replied the simple-looking
youth.
“ Well! don’t you get running away from your father and me,
and winking at the gals! There’s time enough for that, ain’t there,
Gustave?” she concluded, addressing the Baron.
“ Come along, Robert, and mind what your mother tells you!”
said the Herr Baron with his guttural German accent, as the
extraordinary trio pursued their way downthe Digue, the Baroness making audible remarks on everybody
she met, as they went.Margaret Pullen sat where they had left her, moving about the
perambulator, whilst her eyes, like Elinor’s, were fixed upon the
tranquil water. The August sun had now quite disappeared, and the
indescribably faint and unpleasant odour, which is associated with
the dunes of Heyst, had begun to make itself apparent. A still
languor had crept over everything, and there were indications of a
thunderstorm in the air. She was thinking of her husband, Colonel
Arthur Pullen, the elder brother of Miss Leyton’sfiancé, who was toiling out in India
for baby and herself. It had been a terrible blow to Margaret, to
let him go out alone after only one year of happy wedded life, but
the expected advent of her little daughter at the time, had
prohibited her undertaking so long a journey and she had been
compelled to remain behind. And now baby was six months old, and
Colonel Pullen hoped to be home by Christmas, so had advised her to
wait for his return. But her thoughts were sad sometimes,
notwithstanding.Events happen so unexpectedly in this world—who could say for
certain that she and her husband would ever meet again—that Arthur
would ever see his little girl, or that she should live to place
her in her father’s arms? But such a state of feeling was morbid,
she knew, and she generally made an effort to shake it off. The
nurse, returning with the information she had sent her to acquire,
roused her from her reverie.
“ If you please, Ma’am, the young lady’s name is Brandt, and
Philippe says she came from London!”
“ English! I should never have guessed it!” observed Mrs.
Pullen, “She speaks French so well.”
“ Shall I take the baby now, Ma’am?”
“ Yes! Wheel her along the Digue. I shall come and meet you
by and by!”As the servant obeyed her orders, she called to Miss
Leyton.
“ Elinor! come here!”
“ What is it?” asked Miss Leyton, seating herself beside
her.
“ The new girl’s name is Brandt and she comes from England!
Would you have believed it?”
“ I did not take sufficient interest in her to make any
speculations on the subject. I only observed that she had a mouth
from ear to ear, and ate like a pig! What does it concern us, where
she comes from?”At that moment, a Mrs. Montague, who, with her husband, was
conveying a family of nine children over to Brussels, under the
mistaken impression, that they would be able to live cheaper there
than in England, came down the Hotel steps with half a dozen of
them, clinging to her skirts, and went straight up to Margaret
Pullen.
“ O! Mrs. Pullen! What is that young lady’s name, who sat
opposite to you at dinner? Everybody is asking! I hear she is
enormously rich, and travelling alone. Did you see the lace on her
dress? Real Valenciennes, and the diamond rings she wore! Frederick
says they must be worth a lot of money. She must be someone of
consequence I should imagine!”
“ On the contrary, my nurse tells me she is English and her
name is Brandt. Has she no friends here?”
“ Madame Lamont says she arrived in company with another
girl, but they are located at different parts of the Hotel. It
seems very strange, does it not?”
“ And it sounds very improper!” interposed Elinor Leyton, “I
should say the less we have to say to her, the better! You never
know what acquaintances you may make in a place like this! When I
look up and down thetable d’hôtemenagerie sometimes, it makes me quite ill!”
“ Does it?” rejoined Mrs. Montague, “I think it’s so amusing!
That Baroness Gobelli, for instance——”
“ Don’t mention her before me!” cried Miss Leyton, in a tone
of disgust, “the woman is not fit for civilised
society!”
“ She is rather common, certainly, and strange in her
behaviour,” said Mrs. Montague, “but she is very good-natured. She
gave my little Edward a louis yesterday. I felt quite ashamed to
let him take it!”
“ That just proves her vulgarity,” exclaimed Elinor Leyton,
who had not a sixpence to give away, herself, “it shows that she
thinks her money will atone for all her other shortcomings! She
gave that Miss Taylor who left last week, a valuable brooch off her
own throat. And poor payment too, for all the dirty things she made
her do and the ridicule she poured upon her. I daresay thisnouveau richewill try to curry favour
with us by the same means.”At that moment, the girl under discussion, Miss Brandt,
appeared on the balcony, which was only raised a few feet above
where they sat. She wore the same dress she had at dinner, with the
addition of a little fleecy shawl about her shoulders. She stood
smiling,and looking at the ladies (who had naturally dropped all
discussion about her) for a few moments, and then she ventured to
descend the steps between the rampant gilded lions, and almost
timidly, as it seemed, took up a position near them. Mrs. Pullen
felt that she could not be so discourteous as to take no notice
whatever of the new-comer, and so, greatly to Miss Leyton’s
disgust, she uttered quietly, “Good evening!”It was quite enough for Miss Brandt. She drew nearer with
smiles mantling over her face.
“ Good evening! Isn’t it lovely here?—so soft and warm,
something like the Island, but so much fresher!”She looked up and down the Digue, now crowded with a
multitude of visitors, and drew in her breath with a long sigh of
content.
“ How gay and happy they all seem, and how happy I am too! Do
you know, if I had my will, what I should like to do?” she said,
addressing Mrs. Pullen.
“ No! indeed!”
“ I should like to tear up and down this road as hard as ever
I could, throwing my arms over my head and screaming
aloud!”The ladies exchanged glances of astonishment, but Margaret
Pullen could not forbear smiling as she asked their new
acquaintance the reason why.
“ O! because I am free—free at last, after ten long years of
imprisonment! I am telling you the truth, I am indeed, and you
would feel just the same if you had been shut up in a horrid
Convent ever since you were eleven years old!”At the word “convent”, the national Protestant horror
immediately spread itself over the faces of the threeother ladies; Mrs. Montague gathered her flock about her and
took them out of the way of possible contamination, though she
would have much preferred to hear the rest of Miss Brandt’s story,
and Elinor Leyton moved her chair further away. But Margaret Pullen
was interested and encouraged the girl to proceed.
“ In a convent! I suppose then you are a Roman
Catholic!”Harriet Brandt suddenly opened her slumbrous
eyes.
“ I don’t think so! I’m not quite sure what I am! Of course
I’ve had any amount of religion crammed down my throat in the
Convent, and I had to follow their prayers, whilst there, but I
don’t believe my parents were Catholics! But it does not signify, I
am my own mistress now. I can be what I like!”
“ You have been so unfortunate then as to lose your
parents!”
“ O! yes! years ago, that is why my guardian, Mr. Trawler,
placed me in the Convent for my education. And I’ve been there for
ten years! Is it not a shame? I’m twenty-one now! That’s why I’m
free! You see,” the girl went on confidentially, “my parents left
me everything, and as soon as I came of age I entered into
possession of it. My guardian, Mr. Trawler, who lives in
Jamaica,—did I tell you that I’ve come from Jamaica?—thought I
should live with him and his wife, when I left the Convent, and pay
them for my keep, but I refused. They had kept me too tight! I
wanted to see the world and life—it was what I had been looking
forward to—so as soon as my affairs were settled, I left the West
Indies and came over here!”
“ They said you came from England in the Hotel!”
“ So I did! The steamer came to London and I stayed there a
week before I came on here!”
“ But you are too young to travel about by yourself, Miss
Brandt! English young ladies never do so!” said Mrs.
Pullen.
“ I’m not by myself, exactly! Olga Brimont, who was in the
Convent with me, came too. But she is ill, so she’s upstairs. She
has come to her brother who is in Brussels, and we travelled
together. We had the same cabin on board the steamer, and Olga was
very ill. One night the doctor thought she was going to die! I
stayed with her all the time. I used to sit up with her at night,
but it did her no good. We stopped in London because we wanted to
buy some dresses and things, but she was not able to go out, and I
had to go alone. Her brother is away from Brussels at present so he
wrote her to stay in Heyst till he could fetch her, and as I had
nowhere particular to go, I came with her! And she is better
already! She has been fast asleep all the afternoon!”
“ And what will you do when your friend leaves you?” asked
Mrs. Pullen.
“ O! I don’t know! Travel about, I suppose! I shall go
wherever it may please me!”
“ Are you not going to take a walk this evening?” demanded
Elinor Leyton in a low voice of her friend, wishing to put a stop
to the conversation.
“ Certainly! I told nurse I would join her and baby
by-and-by!”
“ Shall I fetch your hat then?” enquired Miss Leyton, as she
rose to go up to their apartments.
“ Yes! if you will, dear, please, and my velvet cape, in case
it should turn chilly!”
“ I will fetch mine too!” cried Miss Brandt, jumping up with
alacrity. “I may go with you, mayn’t I? I’ll just tell Olga that
I’m going out and be down again in five minutes!” and without
waiting for an answer, she was gone.
“ See what you have brought upon us!” remarked Elinor in a
vexed tone.
“ Well! it was not my fault,” replied Margaret, “and after
all, what does it signify? It is only a little act of courtesy to
an unprotected girl. I don’t dislike her, Elinor! She is very
familiar and communicative, but fancy what it must be like to find
herself her own mistress, and with money at her command, after ten
years’ seclusion within the four walls of a convent! It is enough
to turn the head of any girl. I think it would be very churlish to
refuse to be friendly with her!”
“ Well! I hope it may turn out all right! But you must
remember how Ralph cautioned us against making any acquaintances in
a foreign hotel.”
“ But I am not under Ralph’s orders, though you may be, and I
should not care to go entirely by the advice of so very fastidious
and exclusive a gentleman as he is! My Arthur would never find
fault with me, I am sure, for being friendly with a young unmarried
girl.”
“ Anyway, Margaret, let me entreat you not to discuss my
private affairs with this newprotégéeof yours. I don’t want to see her saucer eyes goggling over
the news of my engagement to your brother-in-law!”
“ Certainly I will not, since you ask it! But you
hardlyexpect to keep it a secret when Ralph comes down here, do
you?”
“ Why not? Why need anyone know more than that he is your
husband’s brother?”
“ I expect they know a good deal more now,” said Margaret,
laughing. “The news that you are the Honourable Elinor Leyton and
that your father is Baron Walthamstowe, was known all over Heyst
the second day we were here. And I have no doubt it has been
succeeded by the interesting intelligence that you are engaged to
marry Captain Pullen. You cannot keep servants’ tongues from
wagging, you know!”
“ I suppose not!” replied Elinor, with amoueof contempt. “However, they will
learn no more through me or Ralph. We are not ‘’Arry and ’Arriet’
to sit on the Digue with our arms round each other’s
waists.”
“ Still—there are signs and symptoms,” said Margaret,
laughing.
“ There will be none with us!” rejoined Miss Leyton,
indignantly, as Harriet Brandt, with a black lace hat on, trimmed
with yellow roses, and a little fichu tied carelessly across her
bosom, ran lightly down the steps to join them.
CHAPTER II.
The Digue was crowded by that time. All Heyst had turned out
to enjoy the evening air and to partake in the gaiety of the place.
A band was playing on the movable orchestra, which was towed by
three skinny little donkeys, day after day, from one end of the
Digue to the other. To-night, it was its turn to be in the
middle, where a large company of people was sitting on green
painted chairs that cost ten centimes for hire each, whilst
children danced, or ran madly round and round its base. Everyone
had changed his, or her, seaside garb for more fashionable
array—even the children were robed in white frocks and gala
hats—and the whole scene was gay and festive. Harriet Brandt ran
from one side to the other of the Digue, as though she also had
been a child. Everything she saw seemed to astonish and delight
her. First, she was gazing out over the calm and placid water—and
next, she was exclaiming at the bits of rubbish in the shape of
embroidered baskets, or painted shells, exhibited in the shop
windows, which were side by side with the private houses and
hotels, forming a long line of buildings fronting the water.
She kept on declaring that she wanted to buy that or this,
and lamenting she had not brought more money with her.
“ You will have plenty of opportunities to select and
purchase what you want to-morrow,” said Mrs. Pullen, “and you will
be better able to judge what they are like. They look better under
the gas than they do by daylight, I can assure you, Miss
Brandt!”
“ O! but they are lovely—delightful!” replied the girl,
enthusiastically, “I never saw anything so pretty before! Do look
at that little doll in a bathing costume, with her cap in one hand,
her sponge in the other! She is charming—unique!Tout
ce qu’il y a de plus beau!”
She spoke French perfectly, and when she spoke English, it
was with a slightly foreign accent, that greatly enhanced its
charm. It made Mrs. Pullen observe:
“ You are more used to speaking French than English, Miss
Brandt!”
“ Yes! We always spoke French in the Convent, and it is in
general use in the Island. But I thought—I hoped—that I spoke
English like an Englishwoman! Iaman
Englishwoman, you know!”
“ Are you? I was not quite sure! Brandt sounds rather
German!”
“ No! my father was English, his name was Henry Brandt, and
my mother was a Miss Carey—daughter of one of the Justices of
Barbadoes!”
“ O! indeed!” replied Mrs. Pullen. She did not know what else
to say. The subject was of no interest to her! At that moment they
encountered the nurse and perambulator, and she naturally stopped
to speak to her baby.
The sight of the infant seemed to drive Miss Brandt
wild.
“ O! is that your baby, Mrs. Pullen, is that really your
baby?” she exclaimed excitedly, “you never told me you had one. O!
the darling! the sweet dear little angel! I love little white
babies! I adore them. They are so sweet and fresh and clean—so
different from the little niggers who smell so nasty, you can’t
touch them! We never saw a baby in the Convent, and so few English
children live to grow up in Jamaica! O! let me hold her! let me
carry her! Imust!”
She was about to seize the infant in her arms, when the
mother interposed.
“ No, Miss Brandt, please, not this evening! She is but half
awake, and has arrived at that age when she
is frightened of strangers. Another time perhaps, when she
has become used to you, but not now!”
“ But I will be so careful of her, pretty dear!” persisted
the girl, “I will nurse her so gently, that she will fall to sleep
again in my arms. Come! my little love, come!” she continued to the
baby, who pouted her lips and looked as if she were going to
cry.
“ Leave her alone!” exclaimed Elinor Leyton in a sharp voice.
“Do you not hear what Mrs. Pullen says—that you are not to touch
her!”
She spoke so acridly, that gentle Margaret Pullen felt
grieved for the look of dismay that darted into Harriet Brandt’s
face on hearing it.
“ O! I am sorry—I didn’t mean—” she stammered, with a side
glance at Margaret.
“ Of course you did not mean anything but what was kind,”
said Mrs. Pullen, “Miss Leyton perfectly understands that, and when
baby is used to you, I daresay she will be very grateful for your
attentions. But to-night she is sleepy and tired, and, perhaps, a
little cross. Take her home, Nurse,” she went on, “and put her to
bed! Good-night, my sweet!” and the perambulator passed them and
was gone.
An awkward silence ensued between the three women after this
little incident. Elinor Leyton walked somewhat apart from her
companions, as if she wished to avoid all further controversy,
whilst Margaret Pullen sought some way by which to atone for her
friend’s rudeness to the young stranger. Presently they came across
one of thecafés chantantswhich are
attached to the seaside hotels, and which was brilliantly lighted
up. A large awning was spread outside, to shelter some
dozens of chairs and tables, most of which were already
occupied. The windows of the hotel salon had been thrown wide open,
to accommodate some singers and musicians, who advanced in turn and
stood on the threshold to amuse the audience. As they approached
the scene, a tenor in evening dress was singing a love song, whilst
the musicians accompanied his voice from the salon, and the
occupants of the chairs were listening with rapt attention.
“ How charming! how delightful!” cried Harriet Brandt, as
they reached the spot, “I never saw anything like this in the
Island!”
“ You appear never to have seen anything!” remarked Miss
Leyton, with a sneer. Miss Brandt glanced apologetically at Mrs.
Pullen.
“ How could I see anything, when I was in the Convent?” she
said, “I know there are places of entertainment in the Island, but
I was never allowed to go to any. And in London, there was no one
for me to go with! I should so much like to go in there,”
indicating thecafé. “Will you come with
me, both of you I mean, and I will pay for everything! I have
plenty of money, you know!”
“ There is nothing to pay, my dear, unless you call for
refreshment,” was Margaret’s reply. “Yes, I will go with you
certainly, if you so much wish it! Elinor, you won’t mind, will
you?”
But Miss Leyton was engaged talking to a Monsieur and
Mademoiselle Vieuxtemps—an old brother and sister, resident in the
Lion d’Or—who had stopped to wish her Good-evening! They were dear,
good old people, but rather monotonous and dull, and Elinor
had
more than once ridiculed their manner of talking and voted
them the most terrible bores. Mrs. Pullen concluded therefore, that
she would get rid of them as soon as courtesy permitted her to do
so, and follow her. With a smile and a bow therefore, to the
Vieuxtemps, she pushed her way through the crowd with Harriet
Brandt, to where she perceived that three seats were vacant, and
took possession of them. They were not good seats for hearing or
seeing, being to one side of the salon, and quite in the shadow,
but the place was so full that she saw no chance of getting any
others. As soon as they were seated, the waiter came round for
orders, and it was with difficulty that Mrs. Pullen prevented her
companion purchasing sufficient liqueurs and cakes to serve double
the number of their company.
“ You must allow me to pay for myself, Miss Brandt,” she said
gravely, “or I will never accompany you anywhere again!”
“ But I have lots of money,” pleaded the girl, “much more
than I know what to do with—it would be a pleasure to me, it would
indeed!”
But Mrs. Pullen was resolute, and threelimonadesonly were placed upon their table.
Elinor Leyton had not yet made her appearance, and Mrs. Pullen kept
craning her neck over the other seats to see where she might be,
without success.
“ She cannot have missed us!” she observed, “I wonder if she
can have continued her walk with the Vieuxtemps!”
“ O! what does it signify?” said Harriet, drawing her chair
closer to that of Mrs. Pullen, “we can do very well without her. I
don’t think she’s very nice, do you?”
“ You must not speak of Miss Leyton like that to me, Miss
Brandt,” remonstrated Margaret, gently, “because—she is a great
friend of our family.”
She had been going to say, “Because she will be my
sister-in-law before long,” but remembered Elinor’s request in
time, and substituted the other sentence.
“ I don’t think she’s very kind, though,” persisted the
other.
“ It is only her manner, Miss Brandt! She does not mean
anything by it!”
“ But you are so different,” said the girl as she crept still
closer, “I could see it when you smiled at me at dinner. I knew I
should like you at once. And I want you to like me too—so much! It
has been the dream of my life to have some friends. That is why I
would not stay in Jamaica. I don’t like the people there! I want
friends—real friends!”
“ But you must have had plenty of friends of your own age in
the Convent.”
“ That shows you don’t know anything about a convent! It’s
the very last place where they will let you make a friend—they’re
afraid lest you should tell each other too much! The convent I was
in was an Ursuline order, and even the nuns were obliged to walk
three and three, never two, together, lest they should have secrets
between them. As for us girls, we were never left alone for a
single minute! There was always a sister with us, even at night,
walking up and down between the rows of beds, pretending to read
her prayers, but with her eyes on us the whole time and her ears
open to catch what we said. I suppose they were afraid we should
talk about lovers. I think girls do talk about
them when they can, more in convents than in other places,
though they have never had any. It would be so dreadful to be like
the poor nuns, and never have a lover to the end of one’s days,
wouldn’t it?”
“ You would not fancy being a nun then, Miss Brandt!”
“ I—Oh! dear no! I would rather be dead, twenty
times over! But they didn’t like my coming out at all. They did try
so hard to persuade me to remain with them for ever! One of them,
Sister Féodore, told me I must never talk even with gentlemen, if I
could avoid it—that they were all wicked and nothing they said was
true, and if I trusted them, they would only laugh at me afterwards
for my pains. But I don’t believe that, do you?”
“ Certainly not!” replied Margaret warmly. “The sister who
told you so knew nothing about men. My dear husband is more like an
angel than a man, and there are many like him. You mustn’t believe
such nonsense, Miss Brandt! I am sure you never heard your parents
say such a silly thing!”
“ O! my father and mother! I never remember hearing them say
anything!” replied Miss Brandt. She had crept closer and closer to
Mrs. Pullen as she spoke, and now encircled her waist with her arm,
and leaned her head upon her shoulder. It was not a position that
Margaret liked, nor one she would have expected from a woman on so
short an acquaintance, but she did not wish to appear unkind by
telling Miss Brandt to move further away. The poor girl was
evidently quite unused to the ways and customs of Society, she
seemed moreover very friendless and dependent—so Margaret laid her
solecism down to ignorance and let her head rest
where she had placed it, resolving inwardly meanwhile that
she would not subject herself to be treated in so familiar a manner
again.
“ Don’t you remember your parents then?” she asked her
presently.
“ Hardly! I saw so little of them,” said Miss Brandt, “my
father was a great doctor and scientist, I believe, and I am not
quite sure if he knew that he had a daughter!”
“ O! my dear, what nonsense!”
“ But it is true, Mrs. Pullen! He was always shut up in his
laboratory, and I was not allowed to go near that part of the
house. I suppose he was very clever and all that—but he was too
much engaged in making experiments to take any notice of me, and I
am sure I never wanted to see him!”
“ How very sad! But you had your mother to turn to for
consolation and company, whilst she lived, surely?”
“ O! my mother!” echoed Harriet, carelessly. “Yes! my mother!
Well! I don’t think I knew much more of her either. The ladies in
Jamaica get very lazy, you know, and keep a good deal to their own
rooms. The person there I loved best of all, was old Pete, the
overseer!”
“ The overseer!”
“ Of the estate and niggers, you know! We had plenty of
niggers on the coffee plantation, regular African fellows, with
woolly heads and blubber lips, and yellow whites to their eyes.
When I was a little thing of four years old, Pete used to let me
whip the little niggers for a treat, when they had done anything
wrong. It used
to make me laugh to see them wriggle their legs under the
whip and cry!”
“ O! don’t, Miss Brandt!” exclaimed Margaret Pullen, in a
voice of pain.
“ It’s true, but they deserved it, you know, the little
wretches, always thieving or lying or something! I’ve seen a woman
whipped to death, because she wouldn’t work. We think nothing of
that sort of thing, over there. Still—you can’t wonder that I was
glad to get out of the Island. But I loved old Pete, and if he had
been alive when I left, I would have brought him to England with
me. He used to carry me for miles through the jungle on his
back,—out in the fresh mornings and the cool, dewy eves. I had a
pony to ride, but I never went anywhere, without his hand upon my
bridle rein. He was always so afraid lest I should come to any
harm. I don’t think anybody else cared. Pete was the only creature
who ever loved me, and when I think of Jamaica, I remember my old
nigger servant as the one friend I had there!”
“ It is very, very sad!” was all that Mrs. Pullen could
say.
She had become fainter and fainter, as the girl leaned
against her with her head upon her breast. Some sensation which she
could not define, nor account for—some feeling which she had never
experienced before—had come over her and made her head reel. She
felt as if something or someone, were drawing all her life away.
She tried to disengage herself from the girl’s clasp, but Harriet
Brandt seemed to come after her, like a coiling snake, till she
could stand it no longer, and faintly exclaiming:
“ Miss Brandt! let go of me, please! I feel ill!” she rose
and tried to make her way between the crowded tables, towards the
open air. As she stumbled along, she came against (to her great
relief) her friend, Elinor Leyton.
“ O! Elinor!” she gasped, “I don’t know what is the matter
with me! I feel so strange, so light-headed! Do take me
home!”
Miss Leyton dragged her through the audience, and made her
sit down on a bench, facing the sea.
“ Why! what’s the matter?” demanded Harriet Brandt, who had
made her way after them, “is Mrs. Pullen ill?”
“ So it appears,” replied Miss Leyton, coldly, “but how it
happened, you should know better than myself! I suppose it is very
warm in there!”
“ No! no! I do not think so,” said Margaret, with a
bewildered air, “we had chairs close to the side. And Miss Brandt
was telling me of her life in Jamaica, when such an extraordinary
sensation came over me! I can’t describe it! it was just as if I
had been scooped hollow!”
At this description, Harriet Brandt burst into a loud laugh,
but Elinor frowned her down.
“ It may seem a laughing matter to you, Miss Brandt,” she
said, in the same cold tone, “but it is none to me. Mrs. Pullen is
far from strong, and her health is not to be trifled with. However,
I shall not let her out of my sight again.”
“ Don’t make a fuss about it, Elinor,” pleaded her friend,
“it was my own fault, if anyone’s. I think there must be a
thunderstorm in the air, I have felt so oppressed all the evening.
Or is the smell from the dunes
worse than usual? Perhaps I ate something at dinner that
disagreed with me!”
“ I cannot understand it at all,” replied Miss Leyton, “you
are not used to fainting, or being suddenly attacked in any way.
However, if you feel able to walk, let us go back to the Hotel.
Miss Brandt will doubtless find someone to finish the evening
with!”
Harriet was just about to reply that she knew no one but
themselves, and to offer to take Mrs. Pullen’s arm on the other
side, when Elinor Leyton cut her short.
“ No! thank you, Miss Brandt! Mrs. Pullen would, I am sure,
prefer to return to the Hotel alone with me! You can easily join
the Vieuxtemps or any other of the visitors to the Lion d’Or. There
is not much ceremony observed amongst the English at these foreign
places. It would be better perhaps if there were a little more!
Come, Margaret, take my arm, and we will walk as slowly as you
like! But I shall not be comfortable until I see you safe in your
own room!”
So the two ladies moved off together, leaving Harriet Brandt
standing disconsolately on the Digue, watching their departure.
Mrs. Pullen had uttered a faint Good-night to her, but had made no
suggestion that she should walk back with them, and it seemed to
the girl as if they both, in some measure, blamed her for the
illness of her companion. What had she done, she asked herself, as
she reviewed what had passed between them, that could in any way
account for Mrs. Pullen’s illness? She liked her so much—so very
much—she had so hoped she was going to be her friend—she would have
done anything and given anything sooner than put her to
inconvenience in any way. As the two ladies
moved slowly out of sight, Harriet turned sadly and walked
the other way. She felt lonely and disappointed. She knew no one to
speak to, and there was a cold empty feeling in her breast, as
though, in losing her hold on Margaret Pullen, she had lost
something on which she had depended. Something of her feeling must
have communicated itself to Margaret Pullen, for after a minute or
two she stopped and said,
“ I don’t half like leaving Miss Brandt by herself, Elinor!
She is very young to be wandering about a town by night and
alone!”
“ Nonsense!” returned Miss Leyton, shortly, “a young lady who
can make the voyage from Jamaica to Heyst on her own account,
knocking about in London for a week on the way, is surely competent
to walk back to the Hotel without your assistance. I should say
that Miss Brandt was a very independent young woman!”
“ Perhaps, by nature, but she has been shut up in a convent
for the best part of her life, and that is not considered to be a
good preparation for fighting one’s way through the world!”
“ She’ll be able to fight her own battles, never fear!” was
Elinor’s reply.
Just then they encountered Bobby Bates, who lifted his cap as
he hurried past them.
“ Where are you going so fast, Mr. Bates?” said Elinor
Leyton.
“ I am going back to the Hotel to fetch Mamma’s fur boa!” he
answered.
They were passing a lighted lamp at the time, and she noticed
that the lad’s eyes were red, and his features bore traces of
distress.
“ Are you ill?” she enquired quickly, “or in any
trouble?”
He halted for a minute in his stride.
“ No! no! not exactly,” he said in a low voice, and then, as
if the words came from him against his will, he went on, “But O! I
do wish someone would speak to Mamma about the way she treats me.
It’s cruel—to strike me with her stick before all those people, as
if I were a baby, and to call me such names! Even the servant
William laughs at me! Do all mothers do the same, Miss Leyton?
Ought a man to stand it quietly?”
“ Decidedly not!” cried Elinor, without hesitation.
“ O! Elinor! remember, she is his mother,” remonstrated
Margaret, “don’t say anything to set him against her!”
“ But I was nineteen last birthday,” continued the lad, “and
sometimes she treats me in such a manner, that I can’t bear it! The
Baron dare not say a word to her! She swears at him so. Sometimes,
I think I will run away and go to sea!”
“ No! no! you mustn’t do that!” called Miss Leyton after him,
as he quickened his footsteps in the direction of the Lion
d’Or.
“ What an awful woman!” sighed Mrs. Pullen. “Fancy! striking
her own son in public, and with that thick stick too. I believe he
had been crying!”
“ I amsurehe had,” replied her
friend, “you can see the poor fellow is half-witted, and very
weakly into the bargain. I suppose she has beaten his brains to a
pap. What a terrible misfortune to have such a mother! You should
hear some of the stories Madame Lamont has to tell of her!”
“ But how does she hear them?”
“ Through the Baron’s servant William, I suppose. He says the
Baroness has often taken her stick to him and the other servants,
and thinks no more of swearing at them than a trooper! They all
hate her. One day, she took up a kitchen cleaver and advanced upon
her coachman with it, but he seized her by both arms and sat her
down upon the fire, whence she was only rescued after being
somewhat severely burned!”
“ It served her right!” exclaimed Margaret, laughing at the
ludicrous idea, “but what a picture she must have presented, seated
on the kitchen range! Where can the woman have been raised? What
sort of a person can she be?”
“ Not what she pretends, Margaret, you may be sure of that!
All her fine talk of lords and ladies is so much bunkum. But I pity
the poor little Baron, who is, at all events, inoffensive. How can
he put up with such a wife! He must feel very much ashamed of her
sometimes!”
“ And yet he seems devoted to her! He never leaves her side
for a moment. He is her walking stick, her fetcher and carrier, and
her scribe. I don’t believe she can write a letter!”
“ And yet she was talking at thetable
d’hôteyesterday of the Duke of This and the Earl of
That, and hinting at her having stayed at Osborne and Windsor. Of
course they are falsehoods! She has never seen the inside of a
palace unless it was in the capacity of a char-woman! Have you
observed her hair? It is as coarse as a horse-tail! And her hands!
Bobby informed me the other day that his Mamma took nines in
gloves! She’s not a woman, my dear! She’s a female
elephant!”
Margaret was laughing still, when they reached the steps of
the Lion d’Or.
“ You are very naughty and very scandalous, Elinor,” she
said, “but you have done me a world of good. My unpleasant feelings
have quite gone. I am quite capable of continuing our walk if you
would like to do so.”
“ No such thing, Madam,” replied Miss Leyton. “I am
responsible for your well-doing in Arthur’s absence. Upstairs and
into bed you go, unless you would like a cup of coffee and a chasse
first. That is the only indulgence I can grant you.”
But Mrs. Pullen declined the proffered refreshment, and the
two ladies sought their rooms in company.
